


Trimming at Your Heartstrings

by TheSpazzBot



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Awkward Levi, Eren Is a Little Shit, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3303149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpazzBot/pseuds/TheSpazzBot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi didn’t mean to fall head over heels for Eren Jaeger. It just sort of happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trimming at Your Heartstrings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suckaknob](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckaknob/gifts).



> This is a commission for the absolutely amazing suckaknob! Thank you for being so patient, Paige \\( * v * )/

Eren Jaeger, Levi thinks, is an anomaly.

One part of Levi wants to impale the asshole with the blunt end of his scissors. But the other half, the one that Levi’s convinced is also crazy, wants to grab the little shit by those lean, muscled shoulders and find out what those plump, kissable, _so fucking kissable,_ lips taste like. It’s driving him absolutely insane; and Levi knows what crazy looks like, Hanji is his unwanted acquaintance for fuck’s sake. He probably needs professional help, at least that’s what Erwin would no doubt recommend him. But what does that blond asshat know with his stable salary job, with his wife and kids… god, Levi needs help. Preferably in the form of a Mr. Jack Daniels, because he could absolutely go for a shot or five right now.

His hands have found themselves balled into unattractive fists that sit shamelessly atop his work station. Something pricks at his chest at the sight, something that makes him wonder when a certain brunet wormed his way behind Levi’s walls. He swears that he’s not having a midlife crisis. He’s only twenty-four, and don’t those usually come with hot flashes and your fortieth birthday? Or maybe that’s menopause. And he’s actually pretty positive that he’s not a woman, so maybe Levi is just insane. Maybe he needs to take a break and smoke a cigarette. Except doing that would mean walking across the building to bum a stick off one of those sweaty interns. He doesn’t smoke. He’s probably going insane.

Levi has the urge to just slam his forehead against the pristine surface of his work station, but the slab of metal probably costs more than Erwin would be able to make off his corpse when he found out Levi damaged company property. Stingy, blond bastard. He secretly blames Erwin for all these misplaced feelings even blooming considering it’s the man who gave him this job in the first place. Sure, that makes Levi sound like a grade A douchebag, but he hasn’t had to deal with these prepubescent butterflies since he developed that bizarre crush on Harrison Ford back in the seventh grade.

And, suddenly, the curtain shielding his station is being pulled back, and the object of all his affections is walking through the threshold.

_God, when did he get so sappy?_

He acts unaffected with the way Eren strolls in like he owns the place, with that signature smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth like he just _knows_ he has Levi pinned. He just keeps that bland expression on his face as he watches the brunet strut like this tiled floor is his own personal runway. And Eren owns it, with that sensual sway of the hips, mischievous glint in his eyes.

Levi’s probably drooling.

It would be simple to just tell the little shit to fuck off. That the show ended over an hour ago, and there is no good reason why Eren should be back here right now. But the only thing he can do is watch the model get closer _and closer,_ just so hypnotized by every curve, every line. And then Eren’s there, right in front of Levi, staring at him like there are some sort of words left unspoken between the two.

“What are you doing here?” Levi mentally pats himself on the back for keeping his voice between the medium of bored and slight interest. It doesn’t make him sound as utterly desperate as he feels, so he considers that a plus. Eren’s hand pulls to a jutted hip, and Levi has to swallow.

“Erwin sent me.” _That beefy sonofabitch._ He swears to himself that he’s going to shove these scissors straight up Erwin’s ass the next time he sees the traitor, fuck the consequences. Unfortunately, Erwin isn’t in his direct vicinity, so he’s just left to deal with tall, dark, and handsome. Okay, maybe he shouldn’t actually be complaining.

“Tell Erwin that he can kiss my ass.” Levi tries to sound entirely uninterested, which usually isn’t hard for him – but usually Eren Jaeger isn’t standing in front of him. Standing – not exactly what he would describe the way Eren is slanting his body in angles Levi didn’t even _know_ were supposed to be seductive. His eyes rove over that lithe body, those curves being highlighted by the jeans that had to be painted on his skin. And – _oh, fuck him_ – a crop top. A fucking crop top. Levi doesn’t know how he didn’t spot it – well, no, it’s pretty easy to see why he didn’t notice it. The piece of fabric barely leaves anything to the imagination, revealing a toned set of abs, not too bulky, perfect for Eren’s build. That line of muscle that leads up and up, until he’s cockblocked by the fashion statement. Something that reads ‘SMITH’ in big bold letters across the front. He’s not jealous. He is _not_ jealous. When Levi feels his brow twitch, he realizes that he might be jealous.

Eren laughs, and it’s one of those sounds that remind him of his favorite song. Like those soft bells chiming in the wind on a summer’s day. Like something really fucking cheesy that he’d never repeat aloud. “He told me you’d say that. Well, not _exactly_ that. He was a little more eloquent.” Levi narrows his eyes. Definitely shoving these scissors up Blondie’s ass. “To be honest, I think I like the unfiltered version better.” Levi almost misses that, mouth already open to give Eren another way he can tell Erwin to go fuck off. But then he’s just gaping like an idiot, and Eren’s smiling at him like he’s done something adorable. And Levi’s _doesn’t_ do adorable. He does constipated and angry. Not _adorable._ The thought almost makes him cringe. “You. Me. Working on the hairstyles for tomorrow’s show.”

_Oh, this little shit._

Levi crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow as he regards the brunet in front of him, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“He said you’d say that, too.” That damnable smile is still stretching across Eren’s face. He doesn’t understand why the kid is so happy, but he’s never once claimed to be able to understand the human race. If anything, he misunderstands it, the people pleaser he is. Who knew shit jokes weren’t a proper conversation starter? Not Levi. “And that’s a no, if you were wondering.” He wasn’t.

“Cute.” Eren just fucking beams.

Levi somehow finds himself standing behind a messy mop of brown hair, chest tight with something that he absolutely refuses to acknowledge is anything but indigestion. His hands are just hanging there like they’ve never touched a head of hair in their life. Goddamn traitors. Levi’s a mess, but he’ll never admit it.

“I can see why Erwin thinks so highly of you.” If the sarcasm wasn’t obvious enough in the tone, the fucking face the bastard is shooting him through the mirror seals the deal. Eren is officially the biggest pile of shit he’s ever met in his life, and he doesn’t care what his dick has to say about it.

“Rule number one,” Levi grabs a strand of Eren’s hair and holds it dangerously between the twin blades, “don’t fuck with a man holding a pair of scissors.” Eren looks half mortified, half mystified. Levi just looks bored. “Christ,” he says as the scissors drop back to a safe distance from Eren’s scalp. “It was a joke.”

There is a wary look in Eren’s eyes that says the sense of mortification may be a little over half, and he’s politely reminded of how his humor isn’t for everyone. This is exactly why Levi doesn’t like to associate with people, _socially awkward_ as the gigantic blond prick likes to put it. To which Levi would ask him when he started shitting with his mouth. Erwin would just shake his head and say his point was proven. Levi is a lot of things, but socially awkward _isn’t_ one of them. People are just intimidated by his resting bitch face and penchant for shit jokes. He _isn’t_ socially awkward, goddammit.

“Good thing you’re a hair stylist and not a comedian then.” Levi looks up to see that the previous look of terror has slid off Eren’s face, only to be replaced with that smugness that he currently shares a love-hate relationship with. He should just whack off the section of hair to teach the little shit a lesson, consequences be damned. But there’s a certain glimmer shining in Eren’s too bright eyes that makes Levi’s heart clench in his chest like some love struck schoolgirl. Levi thinks he’s too old for this, and he’s probably one hundred percent correct. God help him if Hanji ever gets word that he’s going heart eyes for some smug, ignorant… gorgeous – _fucking gorgeous_ – asshole. He’s definitely too old for this.

“Maybe.” And for once, Levi can’t think of anything cynical to retort, and _that_ is a problem. Eren seems to notice this, the perceptive shit that Levi totally didn’t take him for, smug glance turning into something that has Levi’s stomach lurching awkwardly. He swallows thickly, averting his eyes from the fucking Adonis taking him apart in the mirror. It’s not fair, and he thinks Eren knows it. But, to be completely honest, he never pegged Eren Jaeger as someone to play completely fair.

The weapon of mass destruction eventually finds its way back on the table and away from Eren’s head, instead skillful fingers now work through the locks, shaking the mop of brown into an even bigger mess. There’s a method to his madness, and he doesn’t care if Eren doesn’t understand it. Which is obvious by the way the brunet is cocking a brow up high into the air.

“Um,” Eren tries to start, but Levi’s quick to shoot him a sharp glare. Eren blinks once, twice, before he seems to resign himself to a fate of having Levi perform a circus act on his hair. _Good,_ Levi thinks, glad that for once in the past twenty minutes since the bastard entered his work space he’ll actually be able to do what the title suggests. “Erwin said you were weird, but I wasn’t expecting you to be _this_ weird.”

Levi scoffs, “Is that what he calls it?” Because he’s almost positive Erwin Smith doesn’t use such elementary words as ‘weird’. More like eccentric or socially fucking awkward, that goddamn dick dingus.

Before he can think too long on the subject and undoubtedly make himself want to strangle Erwin with one of the blond’s hundred dollar ties, Eren laughs. And he swears that sound could cure cancer. Of course, he’d never tell Eren that. Or how beautiful his smile looks reflected in the glass of a mirror that probably cost more than a month’s worth of his salary. There are several things Levi thinks he’d be able to live down, but confessing _that_ to Eren isn’t one of them.

“Not exactly.” Eren’s still smiling, and Levi doesn’t really know how to respond; so he just settles for humming noncommittally, because he is totally not socially awkward.

A silence trickles down on the pair, only being broken by the soft swish of Eren’s hair and the muffled murmurs passing behind Levi’s curtain. It’s not necessarily comfortable, and Levi finds himself becoming a little itchy in the stuffy atmosphere. Levi takes a deep breath, feeling like he’s probably about to do something that he hasn’t necessarily thought all the way through.

Fingers are a tad shaky as they meander through the matted locks, trying – but failing – to be nonchalant about this. Eren does something like freeze completely in his seat, and Levi thinks that this was probably one of the stupidest things he could have done. He’s not thinking of apologies, more like how to blackmail Eren Jaeger into keeping quiet about Levi ever trying to give him a head massage. He silently wonders if Kenny is still in the business.

But then there’s Eren, suddenly relaxing into his touch before he can do so much as pull away. Almost like a puppy – no, exactly like a puppy. The comparison couldn’t be more accurate, and Levi’s sure that if Eren had a tail it’d be wagging.

The only problem is that now that he has his fingers wedged through the hair, he doesn’t really know where to go from here. So, he just stands there gracelessly shifting from one foot to the other while he stares down at the mess that he’s somehow gotten himself into. And Levi’s a little mortified. Not because he has his fingers awkwardly fisted into Eren goddamn Jaeger’s hair, but because there’s a certain heat flooding his cheeks that makes him want to pack all his things and move some place where no one knows his name. Tanzania, Tanzania is supposed to be pretty this time of year.

But something’s moving, and Levi is _positive_ it’s not him. When Levi looks back down, he’s not staring into a tangled, brunet oblivion, but a deep shade of greens. And instead of the condescending glint he’s expecting, Levi gets something that looks a lot like empathy. Pair that with the subtle smile tracing the edges of Eren’s lips, and he’s certain.

Hands slowly start to fall to the wayside, but are halted by a strong grip wrapping around his wrists. And now it’s Levi’s turn to look confused. Eren’s head is still tipping backwards, still giving Levi a glance that makes his stomach twist in two hundred different ways.

“You don’t have to stop.” Seconds, maybe minutes, pass as Levi stares down Eren with the expectation that any time now, laughter will burst from those full, teasing lips. But the only thing Levi receives is that smile that makes him feel like he hung the moon. There’s a pressure on the underside of his wrists, and he doesn’t doubt that Eren has something to do with it. Sure enough, as he glances over Levi notices the twin thumbs rubbing circles into his skin. Burning hidden lines beneath their touch with every subtle caress. It’s almost romantic.

“I know.” But he doesn’t know. Levi doesn’t have a fucking clue. He’s just an amateur hair stylist who has fallen for the smartass model that has the world at his feet. It’s just that he’s never wanted to simultaneously kiss and kill someone at the same time. Sure, he’s had his bouts of homicidal rage, but those never came with a side of ‘wanting to wake curled up next to you’. Yeah, he’ll definitely never tell Eren that one.

God, he’s fucking confused. _That’s_ what he is, and Erwin can shove the entire dictionary up his ass if he thinks differently.

“Don’t know if you’ve realized, but I need my hands free if –” Levi thinks that it’s sort of like being punched in the gut and told that you’ve won the lottery. At least, that’s what it’s like with Eren. The way those lips – that are, yes, very kissable – mold against his own in an awkward, upside down embrace. The movies made this look a lot easier, and he’s having trouble keeping up with the way Eren’s pressing against him like Levi’s his only source of air. Hands being caged in midair by that unyielding grip, eyes wide open, it’s nothing like he ever imagined kissing Eren Jaeger would be. Cherry is what he tastes like, cherry and wine – no doubt from the party favors given after the show.

A combination that Levi never recognized as beautiful until it was given to him like this, all teeth and awkward fumbling. _Fucking junior high all over again_ , Levi thinks. Except this time, he isn’t locking lips under the bleachers with a girl who has knobby knees and frizzy hair, but with someone who shines brighter than the fucking sun. And _holy shit_ this is actually happening.

This is happening.

_Holy shit._

Eren laughs into his mouth; and forget what he said before, because _this_ is the most amazing sound he’s ever heard.

“Holy shit.” It’s the only thing he can think to say as Eren turns around to face him, hands still pressing their faces together. That laugh sounds off again, and Levi could probably die right now and he’d be happy.

“I don’t think this is what Erwin sent me down here for.” Eren’s hair is still in disarray, even more so than before with pieces sticking up in random places. He looks a hot mess – definitely hot, and Levi might just be a little shameless. He hums, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips as his eyes rove over Eren’s face, flushed and pink. Levi has an urge to pinch the brunet’s cheeks, but that seems like something that would only solidify his place in social awkwardness. So, he settles for giving Eren a swift peck on the cheek, because that seems romantic.

“Probably not.” Levi steps back, fingers running through his mussed hair in attempt to look somewhat put together. Goddammit, he shouldn’t be this flustered after a simple kiss. Even though that wasn’t exactly a simple kiss by any means.

This time it’s Eren that hums, glancing up at him with a look Levi would like to think is adoration. Then again, he’s probably getting ahead of himself.

“You taste so good. I’d eat you up if I could.”

_Oh god._

Levi tries not to laugh, he _really_ tries. But Eren is just so serious, and for not the last time, Levi’s thankful he has the expression of cold marble.

“Don’t say that. Ever again.” He doesn’t even feel bad at the pout Eren gives him as he turns the brunet back around to face the mirror, because Erwin _did_ send Eren here for a reason. “Let’s just get this over with.” And suddenly, the air feels thick, like Levi should say something that makes Eren feel like more than a head of hair. God, he’s not good at this. It’s only been thirty seconds, and he already feels like he’s fucked something up. Clearing his throat, he looks Eren directly in the eye – well, in the reflection. “You taste like cherry and wine if you were wondering.” Levi is almost positive that Eren wasn’t wondering, but something inside him feels mentally obligated to let Eren know.

“Um, thanks?” It’s the way that the sentence is formed into a question that tells Levi he is screwed. Eren looks like he’s trying hard to say the right thing, which is probably a miracle in itself given the little shit’s record of blurting out whatever is on his mind to Levi. So, he guesses that whatever happens to pass through those lips, Levi will forgive. “You taste like Listerine.” Levi isn’t even surprised. “And,” Eren’s bottom lip has wedged itself in between a set of shiny whites, and Levi doesn’t have the heart to tell him to stop while he’s, not really, ahead. “You’re an asshole.”

Levi thinks that he might want to pick back up those scissors.

“But,” He holds his breath, because for some reason this seems like a pivotal moment in their not-really-relationship-but-sort-of-relationship. “I really like you.” And Eren smiles.

And so does Levi.

Eren Jaeger, Levi thinks, is amazing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Paige, again for being so utterly amazing. And also, thank you, Anna, for coming up with the title heheh
> 
> Tumblr:  
> fuzzyporcupine.tumblr.com
> 
> A/N: I AM TAKING COMMISSIONS. PLEASE VISIT ME ON TUMBLR FOR MORE INFORMATION.


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